Things to Notice
by Miss Mila
Summary: Peter/Olivia A few things that happened after the finale. Almost drabble-ish. Read and review!


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Fringe characters, places, themes, etc. No copyright infringement intended. Spoilers follow.

**A/N: **Here's my contribution to the group of post finale fics (the finale was AMAZING, though Bryn Elizabeth and I predicted the whole ending of it). I like this one. And I hope for the life of me that Peter notices that the real Olivia isn't with them.

* * *

It took them almost two months to find her. To find her and find a way _to _her were two completely different problems, but they did it. Peter did. And Walter.

Her eyes were closed when they found her. She was lying down, facing the impossibly white ceiling; she was still. Her eyes fluttered halfheartedly at their arrival. Her voice was hoarse from screaming; she stayed silent.

Peter was the first to reach her. He blocked the harsh lights so she looked up at him, and smiled, thinking it was just another hallucination. There had been ones before. They kept her sane. It was ironic really.

And then Peter touched her. "You're safe, Liv." He pulled her into a hug, and the tears came. Tears she didn't know she was capable of shedding - surely there was a limit on how many tears a person could shed in a lifetime. Hadn't she used hers up?

She clung to him, desperate, so, so desperate. "Peter," she sobbed his name. The sight of her crying was so heart wrenching that he wanted to cry with her.

"It's okay, Liv. You're okay."

"No. I'm not." It was a whisper. A quiet, quiet whisper that carried the weight of a million worlds with it.

"Let's go home."

* * *

She refused to let the lights off, or the TV. Two months in the darkness and silence were too much to bear. She'd never mind noise again.

Peter understood.

* * *

She woke up during the middle of the night sometimes. More than she'd like. She was scared. Every shadow seemed to whisper her name. Every dark alley was a monster she couldn't face. And she _hated _looking into the mirror. Because she saw _her. _The sight of red hair made her sick.

* * *

"We took her back with us. Back to the other universe. Peter called her a traitor. But he wouldn't let anyone touch her, hurt her. He said she looked too much like you." Astrid explained it to her. The thought of Peter doing that made her smile.

* * *

"Olivia. What are you doing here?" Walter was surprised when he opened the door to find her standing there, drenched in rain, worn out. "If you're looking for Peter he's…well, isn't he at your place?"

Yes. He was. "Um, yes. He is. Walter, can we talk?"

"Of course, come in. I'm making taffy."

He came and sat with her in the living room, though. Asked her what was wrong.

"How-how did you do it, Walter?"

"Do what, Olivia?" Walter asked, bringing his attention back to her.

"Survive seventeen years in St. Claire's? How did you manage to stay sa…" The word died on her lips. Sane. Walter _hadn't _managed to stay sane.

Walter smiled wryly, aware of what she was going to say. "I didn't stay sane much, did I, dear? No. I'm sure you would've fared better."

"I don't think I would have." She paused for a second, wiped a stray tear from her face, and looked up at him. "God. It's _scary_ how alike you and him look. But Walter? You are _nothing _like him. Nothing at all."

Walter gave a sad smile. "I was. I could have been."

"But you aren't."

"Olivia?"

"Yes Walter?"

"I like you better than the imposter."

* * *

She still had nightmares.

Awful, awful nightmares.

Peter was always there, though. A shoulder to cry on. A body to snuggle close to when all the fears and sadness piled up on her.

He was her anchor, her guiding light. Her protector when all the shadows seemed to have faces and claws that reached for her.

She loved him.

* * *

"Thank you."

"For what, Olivia?"

"For coming for me. For saving me. For realizing she wasn't me."

He smiled as he dealt another hand of cards. "You're welcome."

"What gave it away?"

"It's funny how different two people can be while still looking the same. It wasn't one thing. Just a lot of little things."

"Like?"

"Why are you so curious? You were hurt because of her."

Olivia looked down at her cards and took another sip of whiskey. "She's how I could've turned out. If all the what ifs turned out differently."

"She talked with this almost arrogant confidence in her voice," he started. "She walked like she wanted to be two steps ahead of life. Her eyes were lighter. More mischievous. Dangerous. She was bold. Open." He stopped. "Shall I go on?"

Olivia nodded, despite herself.

"She looked like she didn't trust the world. She didn't drink. That was a big one," he said jokingly. "And when I called her _sweetheart, _teasingly, she smiled."

Olivia raised an eyebrow.

"You would've hit me."

She laughed aloud at that.

"There were a hundred different little things that were wrong. I didn't even notice that I noticed them about you."

"Well I'm glad you did."

"You know what? So am I."

* * *

**A/N: **So, what did you think (about the fic, and the finale, I guess)? Reviews are appreciated.


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